I Won't Go to the North Even If It Kills Me

"……"

Seated on a horse moving at an easy trot, I stared down at the book in my left hand.

"Sir?"

Rupia, riding on my left, called out to me.

"Kik-kik, has our commander finally taken an interest?"

She pulled her horse close and peered at the book in my hand.

"Are you truly becoming the Black Grand Duke now? Euhu-hoo."

"……"

"How far in are you?"

Rupia leaned in far closer than was strictly appropriate, craning her neck at the pages.

Rupia went quiet and began slowly backing her horse away.

"……"

When I turned my head to glance at her, she drifted a few steps further back still.

She's not planning to do that to me, is she?

"…Rupia."

"Y-yes!"

"Do you actually enjoy this stuff?"

"Wh-what? No way. I mean—no? No…?"

Leaving her to stammer in a tangle, I turned my eyes back to the book.

"…You call this fun?"

I closed the book and turned my head to the right.

"Alfred."

"Yes."

Alfred, who had been riding behind us, drew his horse up alongside.

"Is there anything, by chance, that I failed to do for that woman?"

"……"

He was clearly referring to the book's author, Novelia.

Alfred paused to consider.

"You saved her life, escorted her safely to the outskirts of the capital, and saw to it that she lacked for nothing, even on the day of her departure."

"Then why is it like this?"

"……"

No matter how I turned it over, I couldn't understand it.

Does she hold some grudge against me?

I'd caught her no fewer than five times when she tripped over her own feet.

"…She turned me into a piece of garbage, that's what."

"Kik-kik, I'm sure there's a reason for all of it."

Rupia, who had been quietly trailing behind, chimed in again.

"Euheuhe."

She let out a sinister little laugh.

"To think a book like this could become fashionable."

Unbelievable.

"Sounds like something for the potbellied nobles who enjoy keeping people locked up in their cellar dungeons."

"Milord, the readership leans far more female."

"…Why?"

I genuinely could not comprehend it.

Alfred nodded as if in agreement.

"Have you read it yourself?"

"I have."

"And?"

"It wasn't quite enthralling, but it made for decent entertainment."

"……"

"Though I can well understand why noblewomen lose their minds over it."

As a man from a fallen noble house who had spent long years steeped in noble society, Alfred had an uncanny knack for these things.

"The kingdom is doomed."

"The population may rise a little, at least."

Ignoring Rupia's snickering behind me, I tucked the cursed book into my coat.

Clop-clop—

I lifted my head and looked back. A column of several dozen riders stretched out long behind us.

"Could use a beer. Anyone have any?"

"Kekeke, packed some in the rear wagons."

These were the men who'd ridden with me since my days as a mercenary—

"We're on a hunt. Quit jabbering and stow it."

—along with the new knights I'd received after becoming a viscount.

Now that I was technically nobility, we even had an official knightly order, though from the look of them we were closer to a rowdy gang of misfits.

And leading this crowd, we were headed west.

To hunt the Giant Drake at the kingdom's far western edge.

Or to be precise, we were headed for the Stone Tusk's den first—under the pretext of clearing out the surrounding threats before the drake hunt.

The Stone Tusk.

A monster resembling a colossal rock-boar, with a full-grown body stretching over ten meters long.

Its hide could hardly be scratched by an ordinary sword, and a single charge from the thing could send a carriage flying whole.

"…What a colossal pain."

Honestly, I didn't even want to bother with a monster that never left its own territory, but—

"Those royal bastards."

They looked ready to drag me off to the North at any moment, so even a pretense of a mission was necessary.

"You bolted the second you spotted the royal messenger. Kik-kik."

"It was a strategic maneuver."

I fell silent for a moment.

"You look deep in thought, Sir."

"…Yeah. Alfred."

"Yes."

"Is this really all right?"

"……"

Alfred went quiet briefly.

"The drake hunt was already in the works before any of this, so it isn't quite a lie."

"Right."

"However… hoo."

Alfred let out a sigh.

"I imagine the Crown has already guessed that you're running away because you don't want to go to the North."

I said nothing.

Rupia edged her horse closer again.

"But we've already taken down what, three drakes by now?"

"We have."

"Even for a Giant Drake, would the royal court really believe we've been hunting one for months and failing?"

Point by point, she was dead right.

A Giant Drake.

A fearsome monster, certainly—but not one that the current me and my knight order would struggle against for years on end.

"I still needed ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to buy time to think."

"True enough."

I did not want to go to the North.

The barren landscape, the endless monster incursions, the barbarian raids besides!

Those high-and-mighty northern knights lived harder lives than I ever had groveling in the gutters as a lowborn mercenary!

"Why, in, the world, would I go North."

I clenched my fist.

"Alfred."

"Yes."

"There's no way out of this, is there?"

"……"

Alfred put on a face of grave deliberation.

"There is, in fact."

"Oh, as expected of you!"

The brilliance befitting a former head steward of a noble house—and my right hand.

"We could leave the country entirely, or sever the tendons in your legs. Either should be understandable enough."

"…Is there no slightly gentler option?"

"…The tendons in your arms, then?"

"……"

"If the Crown says cut, cut is what one does."

Truly the wisdom of a career steward.

I turned my gaze forward again.

"By the way, Sir?"

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Rupia said.

"The West used to be pretty dangerous too, but lately it seems downright livable, doesn't it?"

"……"

"We haven't even seen any stray monsters on the way here. Ahaha. Uh… uh? Why did your face just get worse?"

I was only trying to lighten the mood with a positive remark!

"Right. So peaceful. Peaceful, indeed…."

When I'd first started out as a mercenary, the West had been crawling with monsters.

But after years of my slaughtering them like a madman to stretch my lifespan—and for whatever other reason, their numbers dwindling all on their own—the villages grew, and people began traveling the roads freely.

At some point, even I had started to feel that the West was a fairly comfortable place to live.

"…How peaceful."

And with that, my excuse for never leaving the West was gone.

"…Should have held back a little on the hunting."

I stayed silent for a long while.

"A-Alfred. Did I say something wrong just now?"

"Yes."

Rupia began sneaking wary glances at my face.

"Sir, it's all right…"

"My father once told me…!"

"Y-yes!?"

She flinched hard when I suddenly thrust my head up.

"When you don't know what to do, make money first and figure it out after."

"You told us yourself!"

"Shut it."

"Yes… my Black Grand Duke…."

I'm settling this with a duel to the death when we get home.

I spoke the words with that vow burning deep in my heart.

Clop-clop—

Tens of minutes into our ride west, our destination came into view before long.

"There it is."

A massive cave set in the middle of a bare, rolling hill.

"That is the Stone Tusk's den."

Alfred said.

The Stone Tusk. Weaker than a drake, to be sure, but still clearly beyond the abilities of an ordinary knight.

"Milord!"

Just then, Trecker—a knight and former mercenary subordinate who'd ridden ahead as our scout—came galloping back.

"What is it?"

"The Stone Tusk is gone."

"……"

The cave was empty.

It's not the kind of beast that gets hunted easily, though?

Tap—

Rupia dismounted and approached the cave.

"Could someone have hunted it first?"

"Unlikely."

Trecker shook his head.

"Taking down a monster of that size would have left traces without question."

"Then what?"

"It appears to have fled."

"Fled?"

A Stone Tusk?

It wasn't that much of a coward, was it?

We lit torches and walked deep into the cave.

"…Something's definitely off."

There were no signs of battle. No blood, either.

Then I felt something catch at my feet.

"…What's this?"

"Glass shards."

Scattered across the cave floor lay glass fragments, iron balls, glowstones—an entire hoard of every shiny thing imaginable.

"It abandoned all of this and left?"

"Yes."

Trecker nodded.

Stone Tusks had a habit of collecting shiny objects.

They would carry them in their mouths even when moving to a new den.

"And it just left all this behind?"

"It did."

Trecker pointed at tracks pressed into the ground.

"No signs of combat, and the tracks lead out of the cave."

My eyes followed the footprints.

"Given the length and depth of the stride, it bolted at a full run."

"From what? If there were anything around here that could scare that thing off…"

"A drake?"

"No, that doesn't add up either."

Even if it was weaker than a drake, it wasn't the type to flee in terror.

"There are no drake traces either."

Trecker said.

"It was a coward of a beast that had nested close to a drake's territory all this time."

"Then what?"

"Something even stronger, it seems."

"……"

An ill feeling crept over me.

"Which way did it run?"

"The tracks lead south."

"South?"

"Yes."

Trecker nodded.

"If it were fleeing a drake, it would have moved east, toward our territory."

"But it went south?"

I slowly turned my head.

To the northwest.

That was where the Giant Drake's nest should have been.

"Sir? So do we just head home now, then?"

I didn't answer. I looked at Alfred instead.

His face said he was thinking exactly the same thing.

"We go."

"Pardon?"

"There's something I need to confirm."

I wheeled my horse around.

"We ride for the drake's nest."

"To hunt it? Now?"

"Listen up, all of you."

I addressed the knights trailing behind me.

"If you so much as spot the drake, run. Don't fight. We only need to look. Look, and nothing else."

"…Pardon?"

"No questions! We run, that's the plan."

"Yes, sir!"

And so we set off for the northwest.

"Ohh, I hope the drake's gone~"

"Pray it's there. Honestly."

"Wait, why?"

I urged my horse onward.

"…Seriously, tell me why."

Before long, we arrived beneath a sheer cliff—the place a drake had made its nest for decades.

"……"

Gone. Just as I'd feared.

"It appears… to have headed south ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠as well."

"…Trecker. Is it possible—"

I forced myself to consider any other explanation.

"Yes?"

"—it went off to hunt some other monster because it got hungry?"

"No, sir."

Trecker shook his head.

"There is no mistaking it. These are the tracks of a fleeing beast."

"……"

"Fleeing, as far from the North as it could get."

I said nothing.

What in the world is up there?

First the Stone Tusk, now a drake—both abandoning their dens and fleeing south?

Then Rupia's eyes went wide.

"Oh? Wait, if there's nothing left to hunt, doesn't that mean we're stuck becoming the Northern Grand Duke for real?"

"……"

I ignored her ominous observation.

…I'm not even a Grand Duke to begin with.

The title the Crown intended to grant me was margrave.

Just how obsessed were these people with that insidious little novel?

"…You could at least respond to me."

Rupia grumbled, lips pursed in a pout, muttering short complaints under her breath.

Apparently being ignored this whole time had hurt her feelings.

Ruffle—

I grabbed her by the hair and mussed it into a bird's nest.

"Alfred."

"Yes. I shall send word to the Crown. What would you like it to say?"

He had already read my mind.

"We are proceeding further south to conclude the drake hunt. Then, after years of long campaigning, we shall return."

"Understood."

"Uh, hold on a moment."

Rupia interjected without a shred of tact.

"Years? You said we'd finish in three days."

"Plans have changed."

"Can't we at least stop by the territory on the way?"

Alfred answered in my place.

"Milord."

"What."

"By now, I expect the royal messenger and his escort are camped outside your gates."

"…Better to keep moving, then."

"But I still have to water Linea."

That would be Rupia's pet tulip.

"Rupia, if I ever become the Northern Grand Duke, I swear I'll make you commander of my vanguard."

"…Someone else will water her. Let's get moving, shall we."

"Good answer."

I turned back to face my knights.

"We ride south!"

I raised my voice.

"However many years it takes, we will slay the drake and return in triumph!"

"OOOOOH—!"

"So it's overtime again!"

"What kind of drake hunt takes years!"

The knights who'd been with me since the mercenary days snickered and jeered from the back.

"THE TYRANNY OF THE NORTHERN GRAND DUKE!!"

"KHAHAHA!"

At the shout of Raast—a man with a scarred scalp and a receding hairline—the whole column burst out laughing.

"Silence! Any of you who defy me, the moment I get dragged off North, I'm putting you in the vanguard to cross blades with the barbarians."

The ranks went quiet.

"Raast. You're included. Non-negotiable."

"I'm fucked…!"

A soft chorus of snickers drifted up from behind.

A sigh escaped me before I knew it.

This was exactly why I'd agonized dozens of times over whether to knight these men at all.

Just then, Alfred approached.

"Milord, we have a problem."

"What now?"

"A long-term campaign was never the plan. We're short on provisions and supplies."

"……"

After a moment's thought, one place came to mind.

"Send word to Ikesia Territory in the southwest."

"You mean Baron Keveg's domain?"

"That's the one."

Back in my mercenary days, when monsters had run rampant there, I'd repaid his hospitality by single-handedly taking an Ogre's head.

"He owes me a debt. He'll grant the request."

"A warm welcome awaits, then."

"Probably."

Alfred bowed his head.

"Understood."

"Right, let's move. Rupia, stop gawking at your flower and get on your horse."

"Yes, Grand Du— I mean, Viscount. My mistake, truly a slip of the tongue."

And so we rode on.

South.

The exact opposite of wherever the Crown wanted us.

"…Northern Grand Duke."

I looked back over my shoulder from horseback.

The North, fading into the far distance.

"…I won't go North even if it kills me."

The Central Postal Bureau in the royal capital of the Heinberg Kingdom.

At the desk of the Director's office on the third floor, a man held a small, handwritten letter in his hands.

Wilhelm, Director of the Postal Bureau, heaved one long sigh after another before flinging the letter into the wastebasket and scanning the mountains of other envelopes stacked across his desk.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"These oblivious little…"

He raked his neatly combed-back hair into a complete wreck.

"There IS no Grand Duke in the North, you imbeciiiiles!"

Wilhelm could hold it in no longer, and the scream tore out of him.